


The Destiny of The Shimada Prince

by NothingElseISwear23



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: 7th Chapter Is Where The Plot Starts, Alternate Universe, Blood, Dragons, Enchanted Creatures, Feared Nobles, I don't know what tags to add, Legends, M/M, More tags to be added, Polite Criticisms, Slums, To Be Edited, Trauma, kingdom au, mythical creatures, slow burn?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-31
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-03 11:08:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24469969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NothingElseISwear23/pseuds/NothingElseISwear23
Summary: Hanzo is a prince, while McCree is a slum.Nobles are feared for their power.Slums fear for their lives.Nobles get to live their lives.While slums struggle to survive.Not all nobles are like that. Hanzo may be one but that doesn't mean he's heartless.McCree is not afraid for his life. He will do whatever it takes to protect his people.What if these two meet?
Relationships: Jesse McCree/Hanzo Shimada
Comments: 10
Kudos: 24





	1. The Young Prince

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not good at writing and I don't have a beta. But I want to tell a story that has been on my mind for a while and I hope you enjoy it. Even though my writing's not as good compared to the others.
> 
> Thank you for checking my story out!

Sitting on the balcony of his room, Hanzo gazed at the scenery displayed at his porch. There is shade enough to provide shelter from the radiance of the sun. The sun shone brightly on a clear day with clouds around that compliments the beauty of the sky. The Cherry Blossoms planted in the garden turned out to be a charm. Petals flow against the soft wind enriching the attraction of the landscape. Some got caught on his garment, hair, and even parts of his body. He didn’t bother to remove them, they were not a bother. The translucent blue curtain from his balcony entrance was pulled from the wind and ended up dancing with it. It flowed around like Hanzo's hair (which is annoying for him because it slapped him multiple times already). It's as if the wind was whispering him a sweet melody.

Hanzo is sprawled against his seat as he takes in the landscape in front of him. At the moment, he is wearing nothing but a blue yukata. He didn't bother tying his hair into a ponytail. For him, it's relaxing to feel his silky long hair drape around his shoulder.

He breathed with content as he leaned back into his furniture. His eyes wander around the surroundings of his palace. Until his eyes fall to the 5 children playing around in the field of the inhabitants. They seemed to be having fun. He stares at them with amusement as the children ran around to chase each other.

Hanzo smiled as they laughed in the distance. Children playing around seemed so interesting to him. As a child, he hadn't had an interaction with another kid. He was only disciplined in their castle to be the rightful ruler. He was jealous that time, it only ended up disappearing as he grew.

Hanzo studied the children having fun on their land. Each child had different physical features that can be easily distinguished. White, light brown, caucasian, black, even pale white. The first child seemed competitive in their little game. The second child, Hanzo assumes, is hesitant with playing. The third child appeared to be laughing as the 'it' tried to chase the other kid. The fourth, AKA the 'it', showed frustration in trying to chase the last child. Finally, the last one, the annoying one. The fifth one taunted the 'it' continuously as if he can't catch up.

The second child pointed out that the prince was staring at them. Their eyes widened in shock. All of them whipped their heads to look at Hanzo. He felt like he's under a spotlight, being stared at by kids. It's not that he was afraid of them. They instantly dispersed as if danger was approaching upon them. Their expressions displayed in absolute fear to find him staring at them. The prince of the kingdom they dwell in stared at them.

He frowned at the sight of them going back to their homes. Leaving him with nothing to watch but the sky, again. He leaned against the cobblestone railing, placing both of his arms on top of each other, and propped his chin to provide comfort. He daydreams about arbitrary activities that he will do in the afternoon. Most of which are studies, training, and a stroll around the kingdom. Presumably even meeting up with his majesty, the king.

He groaned in agitation when thinking about all his duties. Everything is repetitive each day and he can't seem to find any sort of change with it. He wants something entertaining with his life. None of his activities have done anything but bore him. 

A call from a servant outside his bedroom broke his wandering thoughts. He rose from his spot and moved inside his quarters. Closing the entryway from the balcony, he approached his desk and pulled his seat for him to sit on. He sat on the chair, glancing at the door with the maid from the other side, waiting for his call.

"You may enter." He called, letting the servant enter into his room. The door opened quietly revealing an aged woman that carries a tray with a cloche situated on top. It appears to be lunchtime already. The maid placed the tray carefully on his desk as if trying not to irritate the prince.

She took the cover off, unveiling newly cooked food. Unagi, or eel, that is grilled to perfection with a special sauce containing soy sauce, mirin, sugar, and sake to the side. There are also three onigiris - also known as rice balls - on a small separate plate. Finishing off with miso soup that wafts off a pleasant aroma. She reveals iced tea as his beverage. Hanzo usually likes hot tea. But because of the humid day today, he doesn't complain about it.

The servant places the dishes on his desk with chopsticks situated on the left of the desk. She took the tray and the lid before bowing respectively, leaving him in his quarters.

The instant she closed the door, he sighed to himself. Now he has time for himself, again. He picked up his chopsticks and began eating what he was presented with.

The moment he picked up an unagi, his left arm started to grow into a blue hue. He paused for a bit and looked at his arm, which has a dragon tattoo covering almost on his left side. One dragon appeared on his forearm, looking at Hanzo with its piercing gaze. The small spirit is emitting a soft blue hue. The dragon's body is not solid. But anyone comfortable to the dragon can feel the spirit. It purred in delight the moment Hanzo moved his hand to feed the dragon. It chewed contentedly on the grilled meat.

Hanzo chuckled at the sight. He gave the piece to the dragon and got another for himself. Another dragon appeared on his arm and wrapped itself around Hanzo's neck. The second spirit closed its eyes and rested on Hanzo.

Spirit dragons are not common in the world they live in. One can obtain them through having the royal blood of the Shimadas. Only a Shimada can control the dragon spirits. Those who have no royal blood and tried to control them will be consumed under the wrath of the spirits. The spirits choose their host, the one suitable for their power.

Hanzo obtained twin dragons. It's not common to have two dragons in one host, but not impossible to have.

Hanzo sipped the last drops of his iced tea after he was done finishing his meal. The coldness of the drink that slowly enveloped him like a blanket of snow. This gave him comfort on this hot day. He sighed as he lightly set the cup back on his table.

As if on cue, the maid entered his room and quickly gathered the plates, bowl, and glass. Hanzo studied her expression while she is still cleaning up after him. The servant shared the same face as the children that he saw in the fields a while ago. Their fear of him, and probably shared. She placed them all on her tray and bowed before the prince. Then left the room after her respectful act towards a royalty.

Hanzo's lips turned into a frown. Why were they sharing the same emotions? Are they scared of him? Is it the face he makes that makes them display fear? Thoughts like these linger until one of his dragons nuzzled their snout against his neck. He looked down at his dragon who stared at him with concerned eyes.

 _‘Master, you do know that we can sense your distress.’_ The dragon that was wrapped around his arm is talking to him directly through his mind. _‘These thoughts are not good for you. You should be fulfilling your duties.’_

"Umi," Hanzo called the dragon. Its ears perked at the sound of her name. The dragon, that was wrapped against his arm, slithered to the table before looking at Hanzo. "I'm bothered by the expressions they make when looking at me. Am I that threatening to them?" He asked his dragon.

 _‘I would not go far to say that to you, master.’_ Her brows furrowed and huffed, even though there wasn't any air that came out of her nostrils. _‘Although you are intimidating to look at sometimes.’_

Hanzo groaned at the response she made. "That doesn't make me feel any better." He sunk under his own folded arms against the tabletop. 

_‘It wasn't supposed to be.’_ The other spirit replied to him. Hanzo turned to glare at the second dragon, whose name is Arashi. It had it's one eye open to look at his master. _'What?’_

Hanzo simply huffed and abruptly stood up from where he sat, causing the sleeping dragon to jump. When he stood up, it caused electricity to travel from the dragon to Hanzo's skin. It did nothing to affect him since he is the host of these mythical beings. Or he is simply used to them releasing sparks of electricity. Hanzo chuckled at the angry dragon, who is now trying to bite his neck. Feisty brat, Hanzo nicknames.

Hanzo slowly made his way to his bed. A king-sized bed, made for a prince (oh, the irony). With sky blue covers that were hand-woven by the professional weavers in their kingdom, white pillows stuffed with feathers to give an absolute comfort for the prince as he sleeps, and the bed which has the most comfortable materials ever known and was made to sleep for a royal, like Hanzo. When he sat on the side of his bed, he slowly sank as if he's being sucked. Hanzo sighed as the comfort of his bed surrounds him.

Arashi leaves his shoulders for the bed, tucking himself in the covers. Umi made her way to the bed as well. She stood at the foot of the bed, deciding to climb up. But as soon as her claws clench on the bed, Hanzo offered her a hand and she happily accepted it, knowing she would end up sliding down back onto the ground. She mumbled a small ‘thank you’ to Hanzo and rested with her twin brother in the bedsheet. Hanzo smiled at the two noodles sleeping on his bed and eventually turned to his nightstand. He reached for the handle of the drawer and pulled out a small notebook.

Hanzo flipped the notebook to an empty page and he grabbed a feather from his drawer. He opened his ink sac container and he let the end of the feather soak in the dark liquid. Soon, he pulled it and his hand stayed up in the air as he thought about what to write on the soon-not-to-be-empty paper. Words came up to him as he formed different sentences in his mind. His hand moved to the paper unconsciously as he let it transfer the thoughts in his mind.  
His fingers danced gracefully with the feather in his grasp. Moving in a rhythm that he made. Up, down, up, down, up, down. His hand continued to move at this pace until he finished writing. He soaked the end of the feather with ink, again and continued expressing his thoughts to the paper under his grasp.

When he ended, he placed the feather into its container after he cleaned the tip. His eyes moved to read his work. He still didn’t name his work. Eventually, he will have to give it a title, something artists do when they finished a work of their own. Hanzo doesn’t consider himself one, but it didn’t stop him from creating his creation. He wrote:

_“I’m not distressed  
It’s not true that  
I’ve never seen happiness  
It has come to my attention that  
I’ve been so worried over small things  
It’s a different feeling when  
Things burden me a whole lot  
No one can tell when  
I’m alright  
It’s a lie if I say  
I’m concerned about what people thought of me_

__

__

_Nevertheless, the beauty of this kingdom never fails to impress  
Petals fall against the whisper of the sky  
The wind calls out to me  
The sun wrapped my home in an embrace  
I’m where I am meant to be  
It’s a deception if I say  
I don’t appreciate this life.”_

Hanzo smiled at what he wrote. This was his best work so far and he’s proud of it. Writing always seems to help him. He admits it helps him express himself in a different way other than speaking.

A knock on his door snapped him out of his thoughts. Immediately, his mouth flattens into a straight line. His eyes dart to the door as a man enters the room in a fancy manner. His teacher has come to pick him up.

The man looked like he’s in his thirties. He has long blonde hair that he tied into a small ponytail and facial hair that is trimmed neatly across his chin, the edges aligned in a V-shape. He wore a long-sleeved polo with a sleeveless, brown jacket which is buttoned completely and a bow. He wore brown slacks and leather shoes. Formal, Hanzo thought, yet the shoes do not seem fitting with the rest of his clothing.

“It is now time, young master.” The teacher bows in front of him. “I will wait for you outside, so you can have time to change out of your… robe.” The teacher muttered the last part as if he doesn’t know the name of the garment Hanzo is wearing. He admits, it does look like a robe. His educator left his room to give Hanzo some privacy. Hanzo let out a breath as he moved to his closet. Time for his afternoon activities.


	2. Without A Mother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hanzo lived a life without a mother. He only has his father, but the king's closed off from his son.

Hanzo settled on his kyudo gi. It has the same color as his yukata but has dragon-like designs on it. Japanese tradition dark clouds with thunder to show the wrath of a storm and the sigil of their kingdom, which is two dragons forming a circle. He let the left side of his kyudo gi loose, showing off his long dragon tattoo that accommodated all his left side. He tied his waist using his royal blue obi into a thick knot so that his garments won’t fall off. He equipped his arm glove, with metal at his arm while the hand part is made of cloth.

Next was his metal knee shoes that he despised wearing. Although it helps him climb around the castle training grounds, it is undeniably uncomfortable to wear. He sighed, having no choice but to wear the agonizing footwear.

Now all that’s left was his long yellow scarf. He held it on his palm as if debating whether he would wear it or not. This scarf was given by his father as a sentimental on his tenth birthday. His father, Sojiro, told Hanzo that it’s owned by his mother. Hanzo, at first, didn’t accept such a gift that's nostalgic for his father. But his father reassured him that he still has a lot of things from his mother. In the end, Hanzo accepted the scarf.

He sighed at the memory. His mother was a topic that his father doesn’t want to talk about. He is curious as to why his mother wasn’t with them anymore. The only explanation he got was that his mother died due to an assassination. A strange reason that they use to Hanzo. But he doubted that ever happened. His mother was a strong woman, who held her weapon up high and fight for honor. His father would tell him that she would wear a smile whenever she’s challenged to a battle, even if it costs her life. The countless stories of his mother are his evidence.

His mother was the one who trained soldiers to fight for their kingdom. He’d been told that she was an expert at wielding different traditional weapons, especially a naginata. He was told that no one would dare face her to a fight. Anyone who tried to challenge her would be defeated in a flash. He chuckled at that thought. A scene where all the competitors have their weapons rooted to the ground while they are lying on the floor in defeat. It will be humorous to see anyone try.

Hanzo knew that his mother was his beacon of joy. A garden of beautiful flowers and an aroma of fragrance won’t be enough to describe her. She was his everything and Hanzo knew that she feels the same way about Sojiro. Hanzo can’t comprehend what his father’s expression would be when he got the news that she was assassinated. The tears that well up in his eyes. He would helplessly kneel upon the ground and expressed himself as he cried. Without her, he was lost and… different.

He would read stories to understand the role of a mother in a family. Most of the time, the mothers would be depicted as a loving, caring, helpful, and sweet. Though, some are portrayed as the antagonist that made the story more interesting. He would enjoy reading on his own time. Even if the storyline went in an obvious direction, he continued to read.

Oh, how he wished to see his mother. He had never met his mom. His father is his only parent to be with him as he grew up. He wanted to feel the beacon of joy as well, just like his father. But he knew it wouldn’t be the same way as Sojiro sees his spouse. Every day as a child, he would think about his mother. Thinking of how it would be nice to have her by his side every day, teaching him countless subjects and hear her whisper a lullaby as he sleeps. She would be the one to cook their family feast and gave all her love for the sake of their household. At least, that was what those books implied when he read those children’s stories from their study hall as a kid.

His father, well, never spent time with Hanzo anymore as the prince grew up as a teen, making the prince lonely. Hanzo had the urge to talk to the king about this issue between them. Was it something Hanzo had done? Was there a problem with them? Hanzo wasn't sure about the reason why, but his father seemed off nowadays. The king tends to play music in the garden before. Playing his instrument and danced along with the breeze of the garden. Trekking along the way, he would smell flowers and sigh, muttering something incoherently under his breath and continue along his merry way. Now, his father is locking himself up inside his room but only goes out to do his business. Sometimes, he had called Hanzo for important meetings regarding the activities that Hanzo will perform daily. The tension between them when they talk alone is unbearable. All Hanzo wanted was to turn everything back to the way it was. Why did his father have to change?

Now that he is grown up, he was sure he can live with his father only as his family. The thought of his mother with them was pleasant, but it faded along with his hope to even meet her. He sighed as he felt lonely in his room while holding the yellow scarf. The walls seem to constrict around his view. Making it seem that the room is closing in on him.

He gently caressed the scarf on his hand and closed his eyes, imagining that his mother was holding his hand. He placed it around him, hugging himself using the long cloth. He thought that it was his mother hugging him as well. He imagined that his mother is whispering words of encouragement.

 _‘Stay strong for me,’_ his mother muttered onto his ear. _‘Be strong for your father and yourself. You came a long way, dear. And grew up to a young man that will rule over the whole kingdom. I know you will be a wonderful king that everyone would admire.’_ She paused while Hanzo let out a breath. Then she continued, _‘As for your father, I know he’s still grieving. You must be there for him. I know you love him dearly and I hope you would act upon it. He seemed to be a different man on the outside, but I know he’s holding it in. I love you both, Hanzo. Even if we didn’t manage to meet, I’m still here with you.’_ Then her presence disappeared as Hanzo opened his eyes. Hanzo looked down at the ground. He can't help but feel bitter at his mother's encouragement. Because he knew that the words formed are not from his mother but his mind.

With a shaking hand, he tied his hair using the scarf of his mother. Tying it around a knot, he moved his hand slowly to lock his long hair in place. He doesn’t want any extra strands missed. It needed to be precise.

He let out a shaky breath as he tried to compose himself. _‘No crying,’_ he thought, _‘no more crying. You are better than this.’_ Both his hands were clenched as he bit back a sob. _‘You have lived without a mother. Those stories were just fantasies. You,’_ he paused feeling his tears trickle down his cheeks, _‘you have your father here with you. Why bother thinking about mother? Your father was the only one here for you. She’s gone now, and you should be strong for the sake of your father. He did his best to raise you. You should return that gesture to your father when you are coronated as king.’_ He wiped his tears using his left hand.

He felt his dragons curl up to his neck to comfort their host. Arashi slithered and used its body to wipe the remaining tears. Umi purred against him to calm Hanzo down. It’s working slowly, but surely. Eventually, Hanzo sighed and thanked his dragons for the gesture before settling down on his arm once again. He breathed slowly, trying to compose himself before exiting his room to go to the study hall.

_‘Maybe it was the motherly embrace that I needed. A missing puzzle piece that was lost a long time ago even before I was able to see it. Those stories had shown images about families together, including a mother. They had spent moments together, looking happy. Even in times of conflict, they would stay strong. They are inseparable. While I am stuck inside these walls with a father so closed off and me, all alone. Would this life be my future? Is this what I’m destined to be? A lonely king inside a castle without a mother and closed-off father. This is a future that I don’t want to achieve.’_


	3. Decisions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hanzo wants to start doing a good deed for other people. He felt like he should thank them for all their services. He started with his teacher.

The study hall is a large room which, he guesses, is where it got its name instead of calling it a study room. It was first named as the library before changing it to the study hall. Both names can be used to describe this room but only the people inside the castle will be able to access it, so there was no point in calling it a library without a lot of people occupying it for reading only. With all the shelves filled with books and the long tables for studying, no one was to complain about the name of the room. The door that leads to the study hall is smaller compared to the doors of the other rooms of the castle. A lot of the doors in the castle were big, with an exception of the bedrooms, kitchen, dungeon, and then exit that leads to the garden.

Hanzo enters the study hall with ease, meeting bows from guards and maids. The gesture’s appreciated, but he can’t help but feel it’s getting overrated in this castle. Someone noble like him should be respected, from what the books and his father said. Maybe he should show reverence for them as well. They did enough to serve the kingdom and he thought it would be best to do so as well.

He closed the door and breathed, the smell of books waft through the air. The screech of the door closing alerted the man, who was already inside the room. He can hear brisk footsteps getting nearer to the position where Hanzo was, which is by the door. Passing through seemingly countless bookshelves, the teacher finally met the prince with a welcome bow.

“Ah, you’ve made it in time.” The man exclaimed, holding out different books on his hands. From what Hanzo can see, some books are about literature and history. “As expected from the prince.” The educator seems to be having a hard time carrying heavy books. Hanzo’s first instinct is to help the man, but would that be necessary? He had decided to be respectful to the workers in the castle earlier. Why not start now? Hanzo approached the man who looked at him curiously.

“I can see that you are carrying a heavy load.” Hanzo looked up at the grown man. “Perhaps, you need some assistance? I can carry half of the books. It will be easy to manage with a helping hand.” The teacher’s eyes widened and tried to show that he can manage to carry the heavy books. Instead, he dropped the books on the floor, unable to keep carrying the book any longer.

The man lost his equanimity as he picked up some of the books, placing them on the nearby table. Hanzo kneels and helps to pick up the books as well. The gesture shocked the teacher but continues, nonetheless. As the prince picked up the fallen books, he noticed that he picked up a handwritten book, the way it looks is a sign. The book is entitled, “Journal.”

He had never seen this book before. Maybe it was hidden underneath the deeper parts of the study hall, it is huge after all. Before all the topics were not the history of their kingdom, most of them were just rules, regulations, values, and other topics for a prince like Hanzo. The history that was taught to Hanzo was the previous kings and queens that ruled the kingdom and their contribution to the whole empire. The longest topic was The Great War, which took at least two years to be over. The cover of the book showed a painting that has a much older design of their kingdom. It was smaller than what they had now and the houses that lived in that kingdom were lesser. The same goes for their inhabited land. Looks like their kingdom had changed a lot for the past few decades.

Curiosity piqued his interest and he began flipping the pages. He first ended up that looks like the table of contents and noticed that the written language is, in fact, Japanese. But the way the written language’s inscribed is far different from the way Japanese is written at this time. Placing a hand at the page, he flipped back to the cover and he noticed that it was also written in Japanese. He turned back to the page to continue reading the unintelligible words. He noticed Japanese characters that he can’t decipher himself. His finger traced the old paper, trying to read what was on the passage. He checked the surrounding texts, see if he can find as to what could the excerpt convey. With no luck, he sighed and closed the book instead.

He stood up and dusted himself, still with the book in his left hand. The teacher was already arranging the books on the table near him. He stacked up different books and sighed as he finished. Hanzo still has a small book in his grasp and felt the need to keep it. Since it was their books, after all, he has authority over them. 

“Excuse me sensei,” Hanzo called the attention of the man, who turned to look at the prince. “Do you have any use of this book?” He asked as he held out the book for the teacher to see. “I was hoping to keep it since I’m intrigued by its contents.”

The man shook his head to answer Hanzo’s question. “No, young prince,” he stated, “I have no use of the literature you are holding as of now. I was tasked to remove the antique books to offer space for the new arrivals.” The man sighed as he continued. “It’s a shame to throw away books. I don’t want to do this, but I have to.”

“I can keep the old books if that’s not a problem.” Hanzo blurted out before he can catch himself. He wasn’t supposed to say that, but he felt bad for the man. He also didn’t want to throw these books away. These books are his only childhood and he felt compelled to keep them. Now that he had said that, there’s no turning back. “I… have an extra space in my room that I can use to keep these books.” The man’s eyes widened at the offer. His mouth is left agape for a few minutes until he snapped out of his trance and thanked Hanzo for the gesture.

“R-really? I mean if you’re willing.” The man stuttered. “I can keep it with me instead of throwing it away. But I’m afraid that my house can’t accommodate these old books altogether. There is still some waiting for me to be picked up and relocated or even thrown away. My house is filled with literature and I can’t throw them away as well as these.” He pointed at the books piled on top of the other on the table beside him. “I’m thankful for the gesture young prince but you don’t have to force yourself to offer your help.”

“But I want to,” Hanzo assured his teacher. “I don’t like seeing books wasted either. So, I asked if I can keep these books.” Hanzo crossed his arms and continued. “I’ll still offer my help even if you don’t want me to. I have authority over the study hall as well. And I decided I will keep these books in my room. Besides, I have an empty bookshelf waiting to be stocked.” Hanzo smirked when he finished.

The man went silent with his lips forming a straight line. Until the man snorts and chuckled. “Well, I’m in no place to go against a prince. After all, I’m just a commoner inside a castle.” The man muttered the last part incoherently, but not as quiet as the man thought it would be. Hanzo had heard it but made no reactions to it, except his smirk disappeared. “Anyway, now that we have a volunteer, I guess I won’t have to worry about these books anymore. We should start our lesson now, or time will be wasted.”

“Alright,” Hanzo agreed, “after the lecture, I shall assist in relocating the books to my bedroom.” The man nodded in agreement. Hanzo took a seat beside the table where all the books that his teacher picked were at. The man went to find the book that they were about to discuss while Hanzo stayed and examined the old journal, which is still in his possession. It’s strange, Hanzo thinks, that he wanted to keep an old journal. Most of what Hanzo’s preferences are new books since he wanted to read a new arrival. But Hanzo feels like he’s attached to this journal somehow.

The teacher arrived with a large book on his hands and placed it on the table which snapped Hanzo out of his thoughts. Hanzo blinked at the book, reading the cover which shows, “The Great War.” It seems that they will talk about The Great War, again. Hanzo silently huffs, the book can wait until he is in his quarters.


	4. Red is for Blood

McCree let out a huff of smoke when he parted from his cigar. He sat on his favorite wooden chair as he scouted in a watchtower. His eyes felt heavy. Maybe he's sleepy. But he doesn't care about that at the moment. What's important is to make sure everyone is protected.

The daily stress of protecting the poor from dangers took a toll on him. He doesn't get enough sleep, he can't go out and have fun - unless if someone replaces him - and he can't lower his guard. He needed to be ready at all costs. One small mistake can lead to death, and he doesn't want that.

Saving people's lives is McCree's decision. Nobody forced him to take on this duty. It was what he wanted. He already decided this when he was still small, and no one can change his mind.

He sighed as he continued to search around. Sweat beads trickle down the side of his head. It's high noon today, so it makes sense. The heat was bearable, so he stayed there longer. He wiped his sweat using his serape.

McCree was wearing a simple undershirt - already drenched with sweat - along with jeans, and leather boots. He kept his stetson on his head. He wore his serape on his right side. His plaid jacket hung on the railings as it danced with the wind. It's warm for him to wear it, so he decides to hang it on the wooden fence.

His stomach grumbles with hunger. Immediately, he went for his basket underneath him. He opened it and searched for his lunch. His brows furrowed when he couldn't find his lunch. His water, torchwood, and his ammo were the only ones inside the container. McCree groaned in realization, of course. He left the only thing that could keep him in his duty. He had to go back.

With a shake of his head, he stood up from his chair and grabbed his basket. He took his jacket as well and stuffed it inside the container. McCree adjusted his hat before wrapping his serape around his shoulder.

A call of his name made McCree twist his head to look at the direction of the voice. He walked towards the edge of the watchtower to see Pharah walking towards his position.

She held her baggage on her shoulder as she walked towards McCree. He climbed down the stairs and met up with Pharah. He chuckled when she looked at him with her glare.

"Didja brought food for me?" McCree asked. "Or should I go back to eat?" She scoffed and playfully punched McCree.

"And why would I do that?" She retorted. "I'm here to replace you, not to bring you your lunch." Pharah passed by him and began climbing up the stairs. "Oh, one more thing," she called, making McCree turn around to look at her. "Mother is pissed that you left your lunch. Good luck with that." She laughed and continued climbing. McCree sighed as he ventured to town.

-

McCree walked down the busy streets with his basket in hand. He placed a hand beside his gun holster, just in case.

He chose the market area since it was a straight path to his house. It was the busiest street, nonetheless a shortcut. The people around this street didn't bother him that much. But they'd greet him for his hard work.

He watched the area to find thugs, who have the guts to steal goods. Most of the time, thieves would appear and get away with their deed.No one would be able to recover if their things have been stolen. Every material count and they depended on it to live.

Now that Jesse is here, he would be able to scout some unwanted bastards that dare to steal on a wonderful day. He casually whistles as he continues walking down the path.

“Hey, Jesse!” McCree whipped his head to see a vendor – who sells different sorts of accessories as a living. 

“Howdy,” McCree tipped his hat in response and casually winks at the man. He strode over towards the vendor and leaned on his stand. Crossing his arms, McCree looks over at what the man’s selling for today. Each accessory had its gem that sparkled under the sun rays and reflected its light. “Your goods never disappoint, Ken.” McCree whistled and picked up a necklace. It held a quartz in the shape of a heart. “Anyone would turn their heads to inspect your jewels. They look mighty fine as always.”

“Oh, stop it.” Ken laughed as he took the necklace from McCree’s hand. “Don’t touch them or they might become tainted cause ‘of you.”

“Shut it.” McCree chuckled. “I took a bath this morning.”

“Yeah, I can see that.” Ken leaned closer to McCree inside his booth and his eyes squinted as he inspected McCree. “Bathed in sweat.”

“You wound me.” McCree playfully pushed Ken back inside his booth, making Ken laugh. “I should get going now. M’hungry and my stomach can’t wait for food.”

“Hey, I’m right here,” Ken told McCree, who made a disgusted face. Ken looked amused as if pleased with himself before ushering McCree out of his stall. “Shoo, I still have to do some work to do.”

“Alright, alright workaholic,” McCree muttered as he adjusted his hat.

“Says the guy who stayed up all night at the watchtower every day.” Ken scoffed as he arranged his materials on display.

“See ya ‘round.” McCree waved as he left the stall. He ventured forth into the busy road, still with his hand on his holster. The basket never left his hand and he gripped on it possessively. Still, he’s anxious if there’s going to be trouble here. No place is safe in the slums.

-

McCree arrived at his house safely without any trouble. He stood on his porch looking at his home. He didn’t consider it a home, just a place to rest and spend his extra time in. Not that he hated his own house, it’s just incomplete. He walked to his doorway and he placed a hand to his pocket to find his keys. For a moment, he looked around the area. Making sure that Pharah’s mother wasn’t around to scold him. He unlocked his door with a sigh of relief.

The moment he opened the door to his house, McCree earned a slap to the head. He whimpered as he looked at the person who smacked him. It was Ana, the mother of Pharah, and the one who picked Jesse up when he was a child. ‘Great, so much for being stealthy,’ he thought. She looked mad, no, furious at Jesse. She had her arms crossed and stared at him with her glare.

“Howd-,” McCree couldn’t finish when Ana stopped him.

“I don’t need your cowboy antics,” Ana grumbled as she tilted her head. “I was hoping that you didn’t leave your lunch on purpose. My instinct was right.”

“I swear,” McCree started. “I swear I didn’t leave it on purpose.”  
Ana huffed and went inside the house, leaving McCree on his doorway. He sighed and followed her inside. He closed the door behind him, before joining Ana who unpacked something in her backpack on his dining table.

McCree approached her to look at what she got. His brows raised when he realized what she got. It was food that she unpacked, and he guesses it’s for him.

“Is that for me?” He asked, just for clarification. Although he already knows the answer to that. She gave a light scoff as she set the table for McCree.

“Did I go here just to eat here?” She hissed sarcastically. “No, I came here to make sure you are eating. I’m going to keep sending you food until I know you are trusted enough.” McCree sighed and sat on a chair when Ana gestured him so. “I’m worried, Jesse. I know you still aren’t over the death of Gabriel. I don’t want to see you suffer.” McCree stiffened.

The name that McCree wished to forget. It was the name he had nightmares with. A name that he doesn’t want to hear. The name that carries weight on his being. The one he dearly loved. The person who adopted him. Someone who cared for McCree as a son. His second father and savior.

McCree looked down at the food at his table. It was soup and a sandwich. The sandwich had meat, lettuce, tomato, and ketchup. The sauce trickled down on the side of the bread and it reaches down on the container. For some reason, the ketchup reminds him of… 

**Blood. Blood was everywhere. He shook as he looked at his hands. Blood oozed down his palm. It felt like water, but something heavier than that. His breathing grew ragged as he struggled to keep his sanity. He lowers his hand to see…**

McCree shook his head, trying to clear himself from his thoughts. He looked at Ana who offered him a spoon for the soup. She went back to the kitchen to give him water while he just sighed and stared at the murky soup.

Somehow, the soup gave off a slight tinge of spiciness. He chuckled to himself. Ana always knew that spicy foods were McCree’s favorite.  
He studied the soup closely. The broth’s still hot since smoke rises from the liquid. It has a small bit of red inside the soup. He unconsciously mixes the broth and the dark colors mix with the red. The movements of the spoon made the soup spin around. Until he stops and places the spoon in the container, making a ripple. His mixing made like a puddle of…

**Blood. He looked at the corpse in front of him. It was his adoptive father, Gabriel. He was lying down on the ground, continuously bleeding and he looked away from McCree. Lifeless, was all McCree can describe. He sat down on the bloodied floor, who was helplessly stiff from the sight in front of him. He stared at the corpse long enough that the lifeless face slowly stared back at him and smiled.**

**_This is all your fault._ **

“Jesse!” Ana called him, making him snap out of his daydream. McCree shook a bit, hands trembling and body feeling cold. Every part of that dream was real for McCree. No, not a dream, but a memory. He felt like he relieved a part of his dark past that he didn’t want to see again. “Jesse, what happened?”

“Flashbacks,” he muttered out, placing a hand over his forehead. His heart’s still racing over the memory he had witnessed. He took deep breaths, trying to calm himself down. He succeeded, for now, knowing that this experience would return, again. 

Ana softened and tried her best to calm McCree down. She knew that McCree is suffering to the extent of self-loathing. He’s selfless, Ana noticed and doesn’t take care of himself that much. Until he is being told to do so.

“You should eat, Jesse,” Ana suggested, pointing at the food she made. “I made your lunch just the way you liked it.”

McCree nodded and held the spoon on his right. He started eating, but at a slow pace. Ana is patient since she cares about McCree. She is a doctor herself and takes care of patients every day. Now, she has decided that she should take care of McCree for his sake. And… Gabriel’s.


	5. Young And Curious

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Introduction to a companion for Hanzo.

McCree sat down on the edge of his bed and slouched. He was half-naked, the only clothing that’s left was his shorts and serape. He covered his shoulders and chest with his serape. Ana already left his house and locked the door for him. He was thankful for her. If she didn’t visit him, he wouldn’t even bother to eat anymore.

Jesse fumbles around with his Peacekeeper. He checked if the safety was turned on before studying it. It was a gift from Gabriel, a custom-made gun for McCree. Somehow, he didn’t even think that a revolver was fitting for someone like him. Nonetheless, he’s thankful for Gabriel’s gift even though he didn’t ask for one.

He tilted the gun to look at its design. It had seen better days, but he always makes it a habit to clean it after he used it on missions. 

It had been his companion for years after he got picked up. Wherever he goes, he always made it a point to bring his only weapon. There was a point where he had to choose between other guns and his revolver. He took the latter with no regrets.

His weapon is special to him. Not only it was a gift but also, he understood its purpose. Well, for him, it was made for justice. A weapon designed to kill every evil in its way, and something used to attain peace for this world. That’s where it got its name, Peacekeeper.

He sighed as he placed his gun back into its holster. He looked down at the ground and twiddled his fingers.

The incident from a while ago is still fresh inside his thoughts. The blood… the corpse… everything. McCree didn’t talk to Ana about his memory. He didn’t want to talk about it and just kept it for himself.

He lets the memory go back to him. Flashbacks of destruction, explosion, and even Gabriel appeared in his mind. Pain describes everything in that memory. The guttural cries from Gabriel, the destruction of his former home, and countless deaths. He can’t ever forget about this memory, even if he tried.

He leaned on his bed and decided to sleep for now. He had no choice but to fall asleep since Ana insisted. He wanted to complain, wanted to say that he has a job to do. Yet he couldn’t bring himself to talk back. He closed his eyes, covering his face with his right arm, and let the darkness envelop him.

~

Hanzo left the study hall with a task at hand: to visit the garden. His teacher suggested it so Hanzo can kill his extra time after they had relocated the books inside his room. Hanzo didn’t complain, he needed fresh air anyway.

He walked through the long hallway that features the previous rulers of this kingdom. They had their portraits hanged on the wall along with their family’s portrait. Hanzo didn’t pay attention to his ancestor unless it’s an educational and needed.

He neared the end of the hallway and saw his father’s portrait. Underneath it was their portrait together. He stopped and studied their portrait. Sojiro was sitting on the throne with Hanzo standing on the side. Hanzo frowned at the sight.

Looking back at the other portraits, their family is the only one that’s incomplete. 

Sighing, he continued walking down the hallway. He passed by servants who bowed in greeting before he bowing to them in return. They looked stunned but didn’t say anything and lifted their gazes away from the prince, returning to their respective works.

-

Hanzo finally arrived at the garden with relief. He took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of flowers around him. It smelled delightful and fragrant, making Hanzo’s lip curl into a smile. The garden is always pleasant to Hanzo. It’s like a beautiful haven where Hanzo can feel at peace.

Every time he had been here, he always made it a point to smell each flower. They smelled vastly different and that’s what made it fascinating. As cliché as it is, he preferred smelling roses. They had a rich scent that made it appealing. The only downside is the thorns. One time, he tried to pick up a rose, he regretted it immediately. 

Hanzo strolled while following the stone path and made small stops to smell flowers. He took his time with each and stroked their petals.

At the end of the path, he stood there looking at the greenhouse in front of him. This is where he would waste his last hours. Most people would prefer not to  
He knocked on the translucent door before waiting for an answer. Minutes later, the door creaked open, with a woman on the other side.

“Good afternoon,” Hanzo greeted, bowing at the same time.

“Oh, young prince!” The woman beamed, delighted to see the prince. She bowed to the prince as well before giving Hanzo her greeting. “What brings you here today?”  
“I just wanted to visit the greenhouse, Toyoma-san,” Hanzo smiled at the servant. “If I’m not being a bother.”

The woman laughed and shook her head with amusement. “Silly, you are always welcome here.” She giggled, making Hanzo blush in embarrassment. “Come, come! I have a new batch of enchanted flowers to show to you that you might take interest in.”

Hanzo nodded and followed her inside, closing the creaky, grassy door behind him. They walked side by side through the short hallway, leading to another grassy door. Except this one has more importance than the first one.

The gardener opened the door, ushering Hanzo to go in first. Hanzo entered quickly, then the gardener followed shortly, closing the door tightly.

Hanzo turned around and looked at the room in awe. This was not his first time visiting here, but every time he would return, it still leaves the same impression to the young prince.

There were so many plants to see and to observe, especially when seeing enchanted flowers. Enchanted flowers are very rare and hard to find. These plants are living creatures that can either be harmless or harmful, depends on their nature as an enchanted flower. Each of them has distinct abilities that can be helpful to humans. Few can heal, some can give off special effects, while others are pretty much lethal. The sad thing about it is that humans kill these plants to have their abilities.

Hanzo studied about the discovered enchanted plants – with the help of their castle gardener – he managed to stay on the good side of these creatures, even though they’re not that trustful to humans due to the history of them being killed for the human’s gain. It was certainly a wonderful experience having them trust Hanzo. It was a slow ride, though his efforts were worth it in the end.

The plants turned around and gazed at their visitor. Only a second passed and they all quickly rushed to meet the prince, who was wide-eyed at their attempts to have the prince’s attention. They all squirmed and chittered for Hanzo. He chuckled at their energy.

One plant, that was smaller than the rest, caught his interest as it struggled against the crowd. It whined as it was pushed to the back of the crowd.

This plant wasn’t here before, Hanzo thought while squinting and studying its features. It had a blue-green stem that somewhat reflected the light coming from the ceiling glass. Hanzo noticed that it lacked leaves and flowers, making it look like a dead one. But, weirdly enough, it’s still alive. As he took note of its appearance, it caught his gaze as it excitedly jumped but ended up losing its balance and fell.

Hanzo was swift to pick it up, using his two hands without moving from his spot. It was purely on instinct, though, he didn’t stop himself. The plant had its eyes closed and shaking a bit. Hanzo decided to calm the creature down.

“Don’t be afraid little one,” he muttered. “You are safe with me now.” Hanzo made attempts of caressing the small plant. The texture was not what he expected. The small plant felt smooth to the touch and somewhat damp. Its roots were not spiky, unlike the other ones he had encountered before.

Its eyes fluttered opened and it jumped from the sight of the prince. It mewled a sound that he can only guess is that it’s happy and surprised.

Enchanted plants have their own way of communicating as well as humans. They can understand each other very well. But when enchanted and humans communicate with each other, it’s a bit complicated.

Enchanted plants talk in a language that humans can’t understand (clearly), but with enough interaction, one can learn. These creatures based their spoken language on how they deliver sounds. It can be a shrill scream, a threatening hiss, a groan, and a hum. Though, they can communicate through actions as well.

The one on his palm was no different, yet its specie is not under Hanzo’s known knowledge. He tilted his head and it followed his actions. Amused, he turned to the gardener who was herding away from the plants who gathered around Hanzo.

“I have never met this one before,” he started, poking at the small creature who gurgled in response. “What is its name?”

“Oh, that?” She smiled, looking over her shoulder to peek at their small interaction. “I have named it Aomidori. It’s one of the recently discovered plants at the Forest of Uncertainty.”  
Hanzo frowned when he heard the forest’s name. “The forest near the corruption?”

“Yes, but it is found on the outskirts of the forest.” She quickly interjected. “It did not catch the void disease. So, we are safe from it.”

Hanzo looked down at the plant, who jumped on his palm. She is right, there are no obvious symptoms of the plant having the void disease. He could be wrong, but if it has the disease, they should feel a bit of nausea.

Yet, no signs of the disease.

Hanzo sighed and kneeled on the floor, gently placing the plant back to the solid ground. It looked confused and wouldn’t budge. It stayed rooted on the palm of Hanzo – pun intended. He shook his hand to free from the plant but still won’t remove itself from him.

“It likes you, young prince.” The gardener cooed.

Hanzo looked up to see the woman smiling at them. He frowned taking a glance at the small being. It mewled a sweet tone that he can guess it’s its own way of expressing happiness.  
“I-I guess it is…”

-

“Please, stop.” Hanzo rushed to try and catch the plant around his room. It went over his table, his mat, under his bed, and to his bookshelf repeatedly. He ended up taking the plant with him since it doesn’t want to go away from him any time soon.

The plant wandered to around in Hanzo’s room. From its point of view, it seemed like a whole new environment. A brand-new place to explore. There are a lot of objects he was curious to study but littered all of it when he was done.

Hanzo looked like he was about to break. His right eye twitching and hands shaking like he wants to strangle the little being. He regretted bringing this plant to his room.

After he had been introduced to the new enchanted plants – which was fun, though the one on his palm hissed at them – he had to ask if the gardener could remove the plant on his palm. It was a hard task. The plant’s roots were strong for its size, which was weird. The enchanted plants were weird enough so he can’t really complain.

He gave up and sat on his bedside, tired from chasing the creature. This plant is fast, he had to admit. He could catch it, but his only excuse was that he was wearing his formal wear than his training gear, which is lighter and more agile for him.

The plant eventually stopped and sat beside Hanzo. It was tired as well, making little puffs here and there. Hanzo smiled and gave it water from his nightstand, which drank it happily and made happy gurgles. Hanzo chuckles and felt his dragons rumble happily in his tattoo.

He shouldn’t be mad about this creature. He was told that this was a baby enchanted plant. The gardener told him to give the plant a lot of attention, like a human baby does. Hanzo wasn’t expecting babying a plant ever, though he accepted the offer. 

This plant is still young and curious after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
